Or have already read. Joseph O'Neill, Netherland. Go find it, seek it out, read it, shout it from the rooftops. It's that good.
Now I'm reading Nabokov's Ada, or Ardor, which I stole from James after finishing Netherland prematurely. It is classic Nabokov in many ways, but with a sense of fun that was missing in, say, Despair (though not in Pnin--I guess Nabokov got jollier as time passed). Anyway, much of it is over my head, in a vastly-well-read-European-intellectual kind of way (Hadi, are you reading this?), but I'm enjoying the ride.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Where I'm heading
Oh wow. This is a delightful article about China's efforts to prepare for its 60th anniversary. The hiliarity ensues:
.....
Soldiers have practiced endless hours to hold their rifles at precisely the same level. Photos show their instructors holding threads as rifle guides, or sticking needles in soldiers’ shirt collars, pointed at their necks, to correct poor posture.
They have trained to stand motionless for a solid hour, to refrain from swaying during the second hour and not to collapse after three hours, reported Xinhua, the state-run news agency.
They have been schooled in shouting phrases in perfect unison: “Serve the people!” and “Hello, senior leader!” They are also expected not to blink for 40 seconds at a time......
Dong Jingbei, president of the Dongcheng District Carrier Pigeon Association, said he understood China’s desire for flawless festivities. But he wondered what shape the pigeons would be in.
“This is totally unfair,” Mr. Dong said. “This is like locking up an athlete in a tiny little room. When they finally let them out on Oct. 1 at Tiananmen, they won’t even know which way is north!”
Mr. Dong is doing his best to soothe angry pigeon owners in the association. “We’re a government entity,” he said to a reporter. “It’s not like we are going to complain to you, right? I’m trying to work on their mentalities, but they are definitely annoyed.”
Still, he said, they understood that for a flawless parade day, no detail could be overlooked. Even the pigeons were undergoing security checks.
“I don’t know what kind of stuff you have in New York,” Mr. Dong said. “But people could strap all sorts of minibombs to pigeon legs.”Back in action? and Good Morning, Vietnam
Agghhh! I've only been back from vacation for a few days, but it feels like, um, a few years. Things are crazy busy now, so I'd better post quickly before it all gets away from me.
As I said, we looooved Ho Chi Minh City--the food was awesome. I had some of the best sushi I've ever eaten, amazing French food (especially the bread!), and very good moussaka. But then there was also the pho, the ban xeo, and, though I didn't get it in Saigon, the banh mi I ate obsessively throughout the Mekong Delta (this photo is huge for some reason--thanks, Blogger, you're awesomeNOT):
And James eating some pho... mmm, food:
Thankfully, it was not a huge city for sightseeing, so we had plenty of time to eat, lounge, and drinks cocktails everywhere Graham Greene might have done so, and let's face it, the man drank a lot of cocktails.
Then we got out on the Mekong, which was cool, though a lot of time was spent in somewhat rickety boats. The Cai Rang floating market was a highlight--the small boats sell their goods to the big boats, who are, I guess, wholesaler boats? Not really sure, but hey, it was interesting to watch, and people wore good hats:
We were not in love with the main Mekong city of Can Tho, but the border crossing town of Chau Doc was, completely out of keeping with border towns elsewhere, totally charming. The lovely Victoria Hotel Chau Doc may have had something to do with my warm fuzzy feelings toward it. That, and banh mi.
From there, we headed into Cambodia by speedboat. Stay tuned for more...
As I said, we looooved Ho Chi Minh City--the food was awesome. I had some of the best sushi I've ever eaten, amazing French food (especially the bread!), and very good moussaka. But then there was also the pho, the ban xeo, and, though I didn't get it in Saigon, the banh mi I ate obsessively throughout the Mekong Delta (this photo is huge for some reason--thanks, Blogger, you're awesomeNOT):
And James eating some pho... mmm, food:
Thankfully, it was not a huge city for sightseeing, so we had plenty of time to eat, lounge, and drinks cocktails everywhere Graham Greene might have done so, and let's face it, the man drank a lot of cocktails.
Then we got out on the Mekong, which was cool, though a lot of time was spent in somewhat rickety boats. The Cai Rang floating market was a highlight--the small boats sell their goods to the big boats, who are, I guess, wholesaler boats? Not really sure, but hey, it was interesting to watch, and people wore good hats:
We were not in love with the main Mekong city of Can Tho, but the border crossing town of Chau Doc was, completely out of keeping with border towns elsewhere, totally charming. The lovely Victoria Hotel Chau Doc may have had something to do with my warm fuzzy feelings toward it. That, and banh mi.
From there, we headed into Cambodia by speedboat. Stay tuned for more...
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Holiday in Cambodia
Signing on from Phnom Penh, Cambodia, and thanking my lucky stars that I trusted TripAdvisor for my hotel... their top-rated hotel here, The Pavilion, is all I hoped and dreamed it would be... gorgeous, chill, a great pool (okay, sometimes I get a bit sick of the smug British tourists so proud of themselves for being awesome and staying here, but otherwise it's great). This is another good restaurant city and a pleasant place to hang out, though the memories of the genocide definitely hang in the air. Today we visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, which is horrifying; they have a link to the Liberation War Museum in Dhaka, which makes sense, as both museums are very simple but very viscerally moving.
Vietnam ended well in the charming border crossing town of Chau Doc (I know, in the U.S., border towns don't sound so great, but this was lovely--the fabulous Victoria Hotel there had a lot to do with its charm for me). In general, the Mekong delta was cool--the Cai Rang floating market was especially interesting in a picturesque way. Bangladesh has similar landscape but hasn't managed to capitalize on tourism potential... well, pretty much at all. I wonder if there is a future there.
I also ate several banh mi, which I considered a victory, and I survived every single banh mi vendor thinking it was awesome to point at my skin and comment on how pale I am. Actually, they really liked holding their arms up next to mine, pointing, and bursting into explosive laughter. But everyone was pretty jolly about it, so that's fine.
I also read the best contemporary novel I've come across in years--Netherland, by Joseph O'Neill. I would strongly urge you to make it a top priority to read this book, especially if you have any affection for New York City, the American Dream, cricket, or Holland.
Vietnam ended well in the charming border crossing town of Chau Doc (I know, in the U.S., border towns don't sound so great, but this was lovely--the fabulous Victoria Hotel there had a lot to do with its charm for me). In general, the Mekong delta was cool--the Cai Rang floating market was especially interesting in a picturesque way. Bangladesh has similar landscape but hasn't managed to capitalize on tourism potential... well, pretty much at all. I wonder if there is a future there.
I also ate several banh mi, which I considered a victory, and I survived every single banh mi vendor thinking it was awesome to point at my skin and comment on how pale I am. Actually, they really liked holding their arms up next to mine, pointing, and bursting into explosive laughter. But everyone was pretty jolly about it, so that's fine.
I also read the best contemporary novel I've come across in years--Netherland, by Joseph O'Neill. I would strongly urge you to make it a top priority to read this book, especially if you have any affection for New York City, the American Dream, cricket, or Holland.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
In Ho Chi Minh City
Newsflash: fanny packs are on their way back in Asia. Get yours now.
Saigon or Ho Chi Minh City or whatever is FABULOUS. Find a way to get to Vietnam. The most amazing part is the fact that this is a 25% hardship differential post. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? It's walkable, there are great restaurants and bars, there's a Coffee Bean and a Gucci store and it's lovely. Up until about a year ago, we only got 25% in Dhaka. I am serious, my shock level on this is extremely high. I don't know what scam the people here are perpetrating, but I think we have to learn from them in Dhaka, because on this scale, we deserve, like, 50%, at least.
And oh yes, we went to the Coffee Bean. We've also lounged by our hotel's lovely pool, eaten at a charming little French bistro (Augustin), hit a trendy Vietnamese spot (Temple Club) where we had to wait 45 minutes for a table because Dhaka has made me completely uncivilized and unused to basic acts like making reservations... This place is just great. It feels like what I imagine Bangkok to have been like fifteen years ago.
Anyway, we'll upload photos upon our return. Tomorrow we head out for a two-night tour of the Mekong, leaving the big city behind before resurfacing in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.
Saigon or Ho Chi Minh City or whatever is FABULOUS. Find a way to get to Vietnam. The most amazing part is the fact that this is a 25% hardship differential post. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? It's walkable, there are great restaurants and bars, there's a Coffee Bean and a Gucci store and it's lovely. Up until about a year ago, we only got 25% in Dhaka. I am serious, my shock level on this is extremely high. I don't know what scam the people here are perpetrating, but I think we have to learn from them in Dhaka, because on this scale, we deserve, like, 50%, at least.
And oh yes, we went to the Coffee Bean. We've also lounged by our hotel's lovely pool, eaten at a charming little French bistro (Augustin), hit a trendy Vietnamese spot (Temple Club) where we had to wait 45 minutes for a table because Dhaka has made me completely uncivilized and unused to basic acts like making reservations... This place is just great. It feels like what I imagine Bangkok to have been like fifteen years ago.
Anyway, we'll upload photos upon our return. Tomorrow we head out for a two-night tour of the Mekong, leaving the big city behind before resurfacing in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
So ready for vacation
Ugh, exhaustion. But I wanted to check in before jetting off tomorrow for eleven days away in Vietnam and Cambodia. Should be delightful! I hope it is at least moderately relaxing, since I need a break (though I always push myself so hard during vacations that it's hard to relax... I really need to chill).
Hopefully I'll have some pictures of fabulousness to post upon my return. Then once I'm back, I have a week at home before a trip up to the northwest of Bangladesh. Should be... interesting. Actually, I love getting out of Dhaka, except for the whole having-to-stay-in-a-hotel-room-filled-with-cockroaches thing. Otherwise, it's lovely.
Hopefully I'll have some pictures of fabulousness to post upon my return. Then once I'm back, I have a week at home before a trip up to the northwest of Bangladesh. Should be... interesting. Actually, I love getting out of Dhaka, except for the whole having-to-stay-in-a-hotel-room-filled-with-cockroaches thing. Otherwise, it's lovely.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Um, guys... bad idea
So yesterday at the gym, we were watching Indian TV and a commercial came on, showing a frolicsome, flirtatious couple dancing and teasing one another. Aw. What could this charming scene be about, I wonder?
And then they get to what they're selling, which is an emergency contraception pill (aka the morning-after pill) called "Unwanted-72." Wow. Advertising fail. And definitely product name fail.
And then they get to what they're selling, which is an emergency contraception pill (aka the morning-after pill) called "Unwanted-72." Wow. Advertising fail. And definitely product name fail.
Sari unveil
So after all the drama, the tears, the heartache, the wringing of hands... I did wear a sari of my own tonight. The Ambassador hosted an iftar and dinner for alumni of State Department exchange programs. It was a great success--turnout was really good, and it's always such a pleasure to see our alumni. So here I am at home, all ready to go:
This is after all the trials and tribulations of buying a sari (from Sopura Silk) and getting the top and petticoat made by my often-unreliable-and-somewhat-temperamental tailor. Plus I had to get some links taken out of the new necklace James got me; apparently it was originally designed for a woman who's approximately seven foot two.
At some point tonight I realized... hey, South Asia is fun. I love color! I hate showing up to evening functions in the dull pinstriped suit I've been wearing all day! I like silk and shiny things! I also realized that, fourteen months in, I really feel in my element here. I guess that's the way of the Foreign Service. Now I have ten months left to appreciate the joy of knowing what the hell's going on... and then poof, I'm gone.
This is after all the trials and tribulations of buying a sari (from Sopura Silk) and getting the top and petticoat made by my often-unreliable-and-somewhat-temperamental tailor. Plus I had to get some links taken out of the new necklace James got me; apparently it was originally designed for a woman who's approximately seven foot two.
At some point tonight I realized... hey, South Asia is fun. I love color! I hate showing up to evening functions in the dull pinstriped suit I've been wearing all day! I like silk and shiny things! I also realized that, fourteen months in, I really feel in my element here. I guess that's the way of the Foreign Service. Now I have ten months left to appreciate the joy of knowing what the hell's going on... and then poof, I'm gone.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
A lovely poem
Riding the Elevator Into the Sky
By Anne Sexton (1975)
As the fireman said:
Don't book a room over the fifth floor
in any hotel in New York.
They have ladders that will reach further
but no one will climb them.
As the New York Times said:
The elevator always seeks out
the floor of the fire
and automatically opens
and won't shut.
These are the warnings
that you must forget
if you're climbing out of yourself.
If you're going to smash into the sky.
Many times I've gone past
the fifth floor,
cranking upward,
but only once
have I gone all the way up.
Sixtieth floor:
small plants and swans bending
into their grave.
Floor two hundred:
mountains with the patience of a cat,
silence wearing its sneakers.
Floor five hundred:
messages and letters centuries old,
birds to drink,
a kitchen of clouds.
Floor six thousand:
the stars,
skeletons on fire,
their arms singing.
And a key,
a very large key,
that opens something —
some useful door —
somewhere —
up there.
By Anne Sexton (1975)
As the fireman said:
Don't book a room over the fifth floor
in any hotel in New York.
They have ladders that will reach further
but no one will climb them.
As the New York Times said:
The elevator always seeks out
the floor of the fire
and automatically opens
and won't shut.
These are the warnings
that you must forget
if you're climbing out of yourself.
If you're going to smash into the sky.
Many times I've gone past
the fifth floor,
cranking upward,
but only once
have I gone all the way up.
Sixtieth floor:
small plants and swans bending
into their grave.
Floor two hundred:
mountains with the patience of a cat,
silence wearing its sneakers.
Floor five hundred:
messages and letters centuries old,
birds to drink,
a kitchen of clouds.
Floor six thousand:
the stars,
skeletons on fire,
their arms singing.
And a key,
a very large key,
that opens something —
some useful door —
somewhere —
up there.
Beijing bound!
Today I got my assignment for Beijing. I won't be there until July 2011, but it's still exciting. I'm slated for a year of consular work and a year as Assistant Cultural Affairs Officer--one of, like, six or something... it will be a huge change from being captain, first mate, and chief bottle washer of the Cultural Affairs ship here in Dhaka. But it will be a great chance to see the workings of a larger section and embassy, drill down into one specific area in depth, and learn from some more seasoned public diplomacy hands.
Other exciting news: this involves a year in the U.S. learning Chinese (from July 2010 to July 2011). Which means that I'll suddenly be able to do lovely, delightful things like actually attend people's weddings; be home for Christmas; and, I deeply hope, celebrate my grandfather's 100th birthday in January 2011.
It was great to see (via facebook) the excitement of all my A-100 classmates who were also bidding in the high-equity bidders round. People got some great assignments. I am excited, too, but I felt like I couldn't quite join in the fun of unalloyed celebration. I am still terrified about the process of getting James into the Foreign Service and posted to the same place. I know Beijing is a huge embassy, but I am so nervous there won't be anything left for him, even if the chances of that happening are slim. We can handle being apart for a few months, but a whole tour would just be a nightmare at this point, especially after we had spend my first year in Dhaka apart.
But I am trying to put these troubling thoughts aside. We are going to celebrate tonight at the Bamboo Shoot, a Chinese restaurant that is shockingly good, considering we're in Dhaka. It's kind of like the Chinese Embassy's version of an expat club--the Chinese people can all sign for their meals there--except it's also a business open to the public. I'm going to toast to someday understanding the Chinese people insulting the foreigners who've come to their restaurant (this has actually happened, which I only know about because I was with Chinese-speaking friends).
In other news, I've had a harrowing day of running errands which nearly ended in the strangulation of my tailor. (I strike up conversation with a woman in the shop, who asks me if I understand Bangla. "Only a little," I tell her; "Not enough to understand Shamsuddin when he yells at people." She replies, "Good. Because if you did, you'd be worried about your blouse.")
Other exciting news: this involves a year in the U.S. learning Chinese (from July 2010 to July 2011). Which means that I'll suddenly be able to do lovely, delightful things like actually attend people's weddings; be home for Christmas; and, I deeply hope, celebrate my grandfather's 100th birthday in January 2011.
It was great to see (via facebook) the excitement of all my A-100 classmates who were also bidding in the high-equity bidders round. People got some great assignments. I am excited, too, but I felt like I couldn't quite join in the fun of unalloyed celebration. I am still terrified about the process of getting James into the Foreign Service and posted to the same place. I know Beijing is a huge embassy, but I am so nervous there won't be anything left for him, even if the chances of that happening are slim. We can handle being apart for a few months, but a whole tour would just be a nightmare at this point, especially after we had spend my first year in Dhaka apart.
But I am trying to put these troubling thoughts aside. We are going to celebrate tonight at the Bamboo Shoot, a Chinese restaurant that is shockingly good, considering we're in Dhaka. It's kind of like the Chinese Embassy's version of an expat club--the Chinese people can all sign for their meals there--except it's also a business open to the public. I'm going to toast to someday understanding the Chinese people insulting the foreigners who've come to their restaurant (this has actually happened, which I only know about because I was with Chinese-speaking friends).
In other news, I've had a harrowing day of running errands which nearly ended in the strangulation of my tailor. (I strike up conversation with a woman in the shop, who asks me if I understand Bangla. "Only a little," I tell her; "Not enough to understand Shamsuddin when he yells at people." She replies, "Good. Because if you did, you'd be worried about your blouse.")
In which I trumpet my culinary talents.
The second iteration of the Chorizo and Shrimp Pizza with Escarole (um, spinach) and Manchego (um, mozzarella) was a smashing success. [NOTE: Apparently the recipe is from Food & Wine, according to the internets, but all my memories point to me finding it in Bon Apetit. Hmm.] I am not much of a food photographer, but isn't it a beauty, cut in two and ready to be eaten by a hungry Katie and James?
This is the best pizza dough recipe I have ever tried--so even if these toppings don't speak to you, the pizza dough is a keeper.
This is the best pizza dough recipe I have ever tried--so even if these toppings don't speak to you, the pizza dough is a keeper.
Friday, September 11, 2009
A significant date
Today has a dual meaning for me. It is, of course, the anniversary of a horrendous day for America, and a day that has shaped our course since in many ways.
And, significant in my own life, it is my father's 60th birthday. When I realized this, I was shocked. I have never thought of my parents as old. And yet, there is the number, round and stark. Other numbers: my grandfather is 98. I am 25, which was quite a shock when it came around as well. I doubt I've received my grandfather's genes in the longevity department, so reaching 25 was a wake-up call: Wow. I've probably used up a third of my total time, and that is terrifying.
And then, days like 9/11 teach us that there is no way to predict, that any day could be the last. I know I should find this inspirational, in a way--motivation to pack more in, to be proud of what's left behind. But instead, I just find it so scary. I think the day that I can let go of that fear and just appreciate what's here now--that will be the day I finally feel like a grown-up.
And, significant in my own life, it is my father's 60th birthday. When I realized this, I was shocked. I have never thought of my parents as old. And yet, there is the number, round and stark. Other numbers: my grandfather is 98. I am 25, which was quite a shock when it came around as well. I doubt I've received my grandfather's genes in the longevity department, so reaching 25 was a wake-up call: Wow. I've probably used up a third of my total time, and that is terrifying.
And then, days like 9/11 teach us that there is no way to predict, that any day could be the last. I know I should find this inspirational, in a way--motivation to pack more in, to be proud of what's left behind. But instead, I just find it so scary. I think the day that I can let go of that fear and just appreciate what's here now--that will be the day I finally feel like a grown-up.
The tease.
Yesterday evening (so yesterday morning, DC time) I got an email from my CDO (Career Development Officer) saying that we would get our assignments that day. This meant I slept next to my Blackberry, checking my email at 4am in hopes of finding something. Nothing, but I figured that it was only 5pm DC time, and they might be working late getting out all the emails.
I fall back asleep and have an extremely vivid dream that I checked my email, found out I was going to Cairo (#20 out of 20 on my list), and started sobbing violently and irrationally--I mean, I like Cairo in real life! But the dream was so vivid that I woke up and actually thought I had checked my email and was going to Cairo.
But finally I figured out the truth, tried unsuccessfully to wake James to tell him all about my insanity, and went back to sleep. I woke again at 9am, and still THERE WAS NOTHING. Nada. I was the dupe of lies and false expectations. Which means tonight I will spend another restless night with my Blackberry cradled in my arms.
In other news, James and I are taking another stab at chorizo and shrimp pizza with escarole (fine, it's really spinach) and Manchego (well, mozzarella is the best I've got) after last night's fiasco--the Great Burnt Pizza Escapade of 2009. But considering it still managed to taste decent if you scraped off the charred bits, I am hopeful.
And today we finished season two of Mad Men on DVD. SO GOOD. Also, after, like, four months, I've finally finished Joseph Nye's Soft Power--did I tell you all that I danced with him once? A story for another time...
I fall back asleep and have an extremely vivid dream that I checked my email, found out I was going to Cairo (#20 out of 20 on my list), and started sobbing violently and irrationally--I mean, I like Cairo in real life! But the dream was so vivid that I woke up and actually thought I had checked my email and was going to Cairo.
But finally I figured out the truth, tried unsuccessfully to wake James to tell him all about my insanity, and went back to sleep. I woke again at 9am, and still THERE WAS NOTHING. Nada. I was the dupe of lies and false expectations. Which means tonight I will spend another restless night with my Blackberry cradled in my arms.
In other news, James and I are taking another stab at chorizo and shrimp pizza with escarole (fine, it's really spinach) and Manchego (well, mozzarella is the best I've got) after last night's fiasco--the Great Burnt Pizza Escapade of 2009. But considering it still managed to taste decent if you scraped off the charred bits, I am hopeful.
And today we finished season two of Mad Men on DVD. SO GOOD. Also, after, like, four months, I've finally finished Joseph Nye's Soft Power--did I tell you all that I danced with him once? A story for another time...
Monday, September 7, 2009
SARI FAIL
So I did NOT end up wearing a sari to tonight's iftar, for alumni of the International Visitors Leadership Program. My colleague Sabreen graciously lent me a sari but forgot to lend me a petticoat along with it.
No worries, I thought. My tailor is making me one now; why shouldn't he be able to finish it by 4:30pm (which at the time was five hours away)? After all, it's pretty much a sack with a drawstring waist. Not too difficult.
So I call him and ask if I can have it by 4:30pm today. "Yes yes madam, no problem." That should have been my clue. "No problem" (in Bangla, the ubiquitous "somossa nai") is usually your first hint that a problem indeed exists.
I get there around 5pm and ask for my petticoat. The tailor (the temperamental artiste Mr. Shamsuddin himself) assures me it will be ready at 6pm. But I have to be somewhere by 6pm! You said it would be ready by 4:30pm!
Shakes his head. "Madam, ready at 6pm." What made you think anything different??
No worries, I thought. My tailor is making me one now; why shouldn't he be able to finish it by 4:30pm (which at the time was five hours away)? After all, it's pretty much a sack with a drawstring waist. Not too difficult.
So I call him and ask if I can have it by 4:30pm today. "Yes yes madam, no problem." That should have been my clue. "No problem" (in Bangla, the ubiquitous "somossa nai") is usually your first hint that a problem indeed exists.
I get there around 5pm and ask for my petticoat. The tailor (the temperamental artiste Mr. Shamsuddin himself) assures me it will be ready at 6pm. But I have to be somewhere by 6pm! You said it would be ready by 4:30pm!
Shakes his head. "Madam, ready at 6pm." What made you think anything different??
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Ooh, and I forgot to mention!
I bought a real, nice, silk sari to wear to our big iftar next week! It's at the tailor right now (I have to get a top and a petticoat made), but stay tuned for photos. I am trying to wear a sari to tomorrow night's iftar as well, though that one will be borrowed.
Lazy Sunday
This has been quite the quiet three-day weekend. I was just thinking that we should have gotten our act together and tried to go somewhere--maybe up to Sri Mongol for the tea gardens? But really, it was lovely to be at home.
Last night James and I had vodka and blini night. This was inspired by the U.S. Commissary suddenly carrying caviar. Caviar! Granted, this was the saltiest stuff I have ever tasted (what do you expect for the long-life jarred kind, selling for $9?), but whatever, it gave the right ambiance. We also had smoked salmon... I wanted sour cream, but alas, we are in Dhaka, and things happen. Namely, the Commissary was out of it, and the jar I bought at the American Club turned out to be a bit more sour than even the name implies.
And yet we managed to be full and somewhat tipsy before 8pm, which meant we were fit for nothing more than several hours of Mad Men viewing (THAT SHOW IS SO GOOD AAGGHHHH!!!!!!).
And today it is Labor Day, and I shall labor, in the form of going with our Washington visitor to some meetings around town. Not bad, I guess, especially since I'm getting comp time for it, so every hour I spend in a suit on my holiday is an hour I'll be sitting on the beach sipping a drink with an umbrella in it at some point in the future.
This weekend we also finally sampled the all-you-can-eat pizza iftar special at Pizza Hut. Let's just say it wasn't worth the year of anticipation. I will, however, say that I enjoyed it when I refused additional slices of pizza (after eating five of them!) and a waiter chided me, "You should do your best."
Eh, it's a holiday weekend... I guess I'm not feeling like putting my all into much of anything right now.
Last night James and I had vodka and blini night. This was inspired by the U.S. Commissary suddenly carrying caviar. Caviar! Granted, this was the saltiest stuff I have ever tasted (what do you expect for the long-life jarred kind, selling for $9?), but whatever, it gave the right ambiance. We also had smoked salmon... I wanted sour cream, but alas, we are in Dhaka, and things happen. Namely, the Commissary was out of it, and the jar I bought at the American Club turned out to be a bit more sour than even the name implies.
And yet we managed to be full and somewhat tipsy before 8pm, which meant we were fit for nothing more than several hours of Mad Men viewing (THAT SHOW IS SO GOOD AAGGHHHH!!!!!!).
And today it is Labor Day, and I shall labor, in the form of going with our Washington visitor to some meetings around town. Not bad, I guess, especially since I'm getting comp time for it, so every hour I spend in a suit on my holiday is an hour I'll be sitting on the beach sipping a drink with an umbrella in it at some point in the future.
This weekend we also finally sampled the all-you-can-eat pizza iftar special at Pizza Hut. Let's just say it wasn't worth the year of anticipation. I will, however, say that I enjoyed it when I refused additional slices of pizza (after eating five of them!) and a waiter chided me, "You should do your best."
Eh, it's a holiday weekend... I guess I'm not feeling like putting my all into much of anything right now.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Adventures on the open river
James's friend Sydney visited us in Dhaka this past week--I'd say our track record is not bad, having had two visitors, neither one related to us. She only had two full days plus one evening, so options were limited. On Sunday, we went on a boat ride with Contic Tours, a company that has restored traditional Bangladeshi wooden boats and turned them into luxury tourism vessels.
It was fantastic--one of the best things (maybe the best thing) I've done in Bangladesh, and definitely worth taking the afternoon off for. Here's James on the boat with the wide river beyond:
This was another wooden boat that was sitting on the river empty--apparently a French doctor had lived in it for several months straight before leaving. We climbed onboard--it felt slightly like piracy and completely delightful:
And James and I on the boat--we haven't had many pictures lately since we've kind of had a been-there-done-that feeling in Bangladesh. This was something new!
It was fantastic--one of the best things (maybe the best thing) I've done in Bangladesh, and definitely worth taking the afternoon off for. Here's James on the boat with the wide river beyond:
This was another wooden boat that was sitting on the river empty--apparently a French doctor had lived in it for several months straight before leaving. We climbed onboard--it felt slightly like piracy and completely delightful:
And James and I on the boat--we haven't had many pictures lately since we've kind of had a been-there-done-that feeling in Bangladesh. This was something new!
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